Shadowhunters and Demons
by Ana Gray
Summary: Raina Fray, or Rae, to her friends, was just ordinary until one night she encounters the dark, twisted world that is the world of the Nephilim, demons and all the other myths she never thought would be true. Rated T for minor language, violence and the occasional odd thing. Remake of Wrecked Past.
1. Chapter 1: Demons

**A/N: Hi! I know I deleted Wrecked Past. I had permanent writer's block and couldn't get anywhere with it, unfortunately. However, this is like a re-written version of it, so basically I read through WP and saw a few mistakes, deleted it and now it's improved, I think. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I like fanfictions, and I wasn't well today, so I wrote this. I might be ill again tomorrow so I will start the second chapter "Not a Dream" now, and continue it tomorrow. Anyway, disclaimer below, and I need to go and find something to drink or eat because of my illness I have not moved out of bed all day apart from going to the toilet and getting up every now and then, I've felt really dizzy and incapable of even breathing.**

**Damned injections. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. Cassandra Clare does. However, I do own Raina Fray, or Rae. **

**-A**

* * *

Chapter #1: Demons

Pandemonium was… well, I guess you could say its name fit the place perfectly. It was always busy on weekdays, and even worse on weekdays. Specfically, I stuck out like a sore thumb in that place. I could practically be anyone's shadow. I always wore black. That night I wore a black hoodie over a black tank top, and black skinny jeans with my black, hi-top converse that I adored. Even my eyes were a deep charcoal. The only thing people liked about me was my hair. It was rather fair, almost white. To be honest, I didn't look like my younger sister at all. Clary had carroty orange hair, emerald eyes, freckles, and on top of all of that, she was five foot two. She was sixteen soon, but she looked more like a twelve year old. I stood at five foot seven.

Simon, our close friend, stood between us, swaying backwards and forwards, hands in pockets. Simon also stood out. None of us should've been here. He looked more like he was on his way to chess club than actually contemplating on the powers of darkness, like how most people here were supposedly doing. My ears were aching at the DJ's screaming tonight – it was never this bad, I was pretty sure.

"I, for one, am enjoying myself immensely," Simon put in. The flashing lights hurt my eyes, and I could barely anything over the screaming that belonged to the DJ, but I could just about hear him. His hand accidentally brushed into Clary's but I wasn't focusing particularly on that. I was looking through the crowd at a girl. She was beautiful.

Eyes slightly lighter than mine, a soft chocolate colour, scanned the room. Her hair was left alone, and fell almost to her waist. She wore a long, white dress that went down to her ankles. Around her neck was a pulsing ruby that I couldn't help stare at. It seemed so real. Then I noticed her gaze was at a boy in the crowd.

Dark blue hair, bright green eyes, the colour of anti-freeze._ Probably contacts, _I mused to myself. The girl approached him and they wormed through the crowd, heading towards the storage room. It was clear I was the only one out of us who could see, but when I knew Clary and Simon weren't looking, I started to slide away. It was then I stumbled against the crowd, seeing two boys behind them.

The blonde one held a knife.

Reluctantly, I still followed.

* * *

The demon boy stared at the girl before him. She was beautiful, and could almost taste the mortality dripping off her skin.

"What's your name?" he requested politely.

"Isabelle." Darn right, it seemed to really fit her. Her voice was soft and warm.

"Do you come here often?" he asked. Isabelle giggled.

"You're asking if I come here often? No, not really." She raised a hand and one of her sleeves rolled down. A matrix of lines, on her arms, inked permanently as if embedded into her skin. Isabelle sent the demon flying rather hard that any normal human would be on the floor, pleading for innocence. Not the demon. He was just shocked, truly. "Come on out, boys."

Two figures emerged from the shadows. One of them had brilliant, outstanding gold eyes. He held a blade as he approached the demon.

"Got you," he said, chuckling.

* * *

Immediately, when I got into the room, I heard voices. Three. Two male ones and a female one. I could see, as I stepped over the tangled, red wires, the two hooded boys who had followed the girl and the blue-haired boy before, their hoods down. One had blonde hair, the other had jet black hair. The blonde one, of course, still obtained the blade as of earlier. The girl was still there but she had a silver whip, coiling on the ground and around her feet threateningly. I could just about see the blue-haired boy on the floor, back against the wall. He was cowering in fear.

"So," the blonde one drawled on, as if the conversation had already kicked in before, "you still haven't told us if there's any others of your kind with you." I assumed this was some kind of gang war, but that was when I shot around because I heard someone trapped in the wires. Clary, her left foot trapped between the red wires. I helped her carefully and put a finger to my lips, indicating her to be quiet. But this was Clary I was talking about. She was never quiet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy on the floor mumbled, his voice on edge as if intimidated by these people.

"He means demons," the black-haired boy said. "You do know what demons are, don't you?"

"Demons," the blonde boy stated, "are religiously defined as hell's denziens, servants of Satan, but in purposes here, of the Clave, is any spirit out of their home dimension." It was clear he was about to carry on, but the dark-haired boy cut him off.

"That's enough, Jace. Nobody here needs a lesson in demonology."

Jace, also known to me as the blonde boy, smiled. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much. Do _you _think I talk too much?"

The boy was practically begging for his life now. "I could give you valuable information," he said. "Where Valentine is."

Jace scowled. "Valentine is in the ground," he spat. He lifted the boy's chin with his long, glowing blade. "You're just toying around with us, aren't you?"

The girl, Isabelle, hissed at the demon, her whip coiling around her feet. "Kill it, Jace."

Jace held up his blade, and I saw a flick of light come from the tip, but then the bound boy gasped. "Valentine is back! All the Infernal Worlds know it – I know it – I can tell you where he is!"

Anger flickered in Jace's eyes. "By the Angel," he said, quite clearly pissed, "every damn time we capture one of you bastards, you claim to know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is, too. He's in the ground. And you can join him there." Jace turned the blade in his grasp, about to give the final blow, but before I could stop her, Clary whizzed out of the shadows, palm out-stretched.

"Stop! You can't do this!" Clary exclaimed. The three teenagers and the demon looked at her like she was going insane. I decided to step next to her, so I causally walked out of the shadows and stood beside her. It wasn't really every day I'd seen some teens trying to kill a demon.

"What's this?" Alec questioned. I crossed my arms over my chest, annoyed to hell and back with Clary.

"They're girls, Alec," Jace said, re-composing his posture. "Surely you've seen one before. Your sister, Isabelle, is one." Jace then looked away. "Mundane girls. They can see us," he half-whispered. He stated this fact to no-one in particular, even though I had no idea what he meant by a mundane.

"Of course I can see you!" Clary exclaimed. "I'm not blind, you know!" I mentally face-palmed. She was being stupid, shouting like this.

I nudged her. "Someone could hear you, you idiot," I said under my breath. She clearly did not hear me, or even notice the light nudge I had given her. Jace, however, had heard what I had to say and chuckled.

"Oh, but you are," he replied. "You just don't know it." He then looked me up and down, as if taking in my posture, my build, and my outfit. "You should both get out of here, if you know what's good for you."

He was holding his blade. Not pointing it at the ground. The glowing thing was pointed towards us both.

"I'm not going anywhere," Clary protested, crossing her arms. "If I do, you'll kill him!"

Jace smirked. "Oh? And what do you care?" he demanded. The boy in the chains, he wasn't ordinary. The colour in his anti-freeze eyes was complete and real, no contacts. He smirked at me when he saw me staring, taking him in.

"Because," she said desperately, "you can't just go around killing people!"

I nudged her, harder this time. "Clary," I said to her softly, gaining attention. "That's not a person. He may look like a person, may talk like one and even breathe, think like one, but I promise you he's not. He's an Eidolon demon, a shape-changer."

I received looks of astonishment from the three teens, the demon and even Clary raised an eyebrow. Where had the random outburst of knowledge come from?

"She's right," Jace hissed at Clary. "Demons, they walk the streets. And you may not even know it."

"Jace, that's enough!" Isabelle shrieked, almost pulling back Jace to his spot. But Jace pointed at me with his ever-glowing blade.

"_She _knows too much, Isabelle," Jace half-whispered.

"I've called the police, you know," Clary stated. Lie. "They'll be here any minute."

Alec, still staring at me, spoke up. "She's lying," he mumbled to his friend. "Jace."

It was so clear he was going to finish his sentence, but suddenly the demon leapt at Jace. I slid out of the way, but I wanted to pick up something, wanted to help. They went down to the floor, Jace ripping at the demon, as did the demon, his hands glinted with powered silver. Clary tripped around a piece of wire. She was running. Isabelle shrieked – who to, I had no idea. The demon was then on top of Jace, his claws spiked with red blood. Jace's blood. The boy lunged for Jace again, but before he did, an electrum cord whipped around his back, sending him flying and letting him land on the side.

Swift as a flick of Isabelle's whip, Jace rolled over, and grinned before the blade plunged into the demon's chest. Dark, black liquid exploded from his chest, all over Jace's clothes. The boy arched off the floor, squirming and gurgling as his body folded. Jace's clothes were wet with the blood of the demon, or whatever it was, and he noticed the squirming form on the floor below him. He removed the blade from his chest, the tip slick with the same black fluid from the demon's chest. The blue haired boy's eyes flickered open. He seemed to his, a fire burning in his eyes, particularly pointed at Jace.

"_So be it. The Forsaken will take you all,"_ he hissed. His body seemed to fold over and over again until his form evaporated away.

Clary scrambled to her feet as I watched her do the action. She began to back away, but no-one was paying her any attention. Alec had reached Jace, trying to pull up his sleeve to look at the wound on his arm. Clary turned to run away – but came face to face with Isabelle, whip in hand. The gold end of the whip was marked with black stains. She flicked it toward Clary and it collided with her wrist, then wrapping around her wrist, jerking tight. Clary's mouth dropped open, gasping in pain and surprise. My eyes widened and I stood in front of Clary, standing near Isabelle. I glared.

"Hey!" I yelled defensively. "Don't touch my sister." Jace raised an eyebrow at me.

Isabelle shot back the glare. "Stupid mundanes," she mumbled. "You could've gotten Jace killed."

"He's crazy," Clary gasped, trying to remove herself from the grip of Isabelle's whip. She shot me a glare for a reason I could not identify. "You're all crazy. Who do you think you are, vigilante killers?" When I looked away, Jace was face-to-face with me.

"They returned to their home dimensions when they die, if you wanted to know," he put in helpfully. I slightly nodded but Alec pulled Jace away.

"Be careful," he hissed, looking at Clary but not me.

"Reminder, Alec. As I said," Jace responded, pointing at me, "_she knows too much_. Look at her. Don't you think she's more than _just _a mundane?"

Alec studied me for a minute. My posture, my outfit, even my face. I sighed and scraped my hair back into a ponytail. He nodded at Jace, but said nothing.

"Hodge may want to see her," Jace explained to his friend. "She looks like one of us, and even acts like one of us. Don't you think she already knows too much already?"

Jace started to walk towards me. I shot another glare at Isabelle, who reluctantly removed the whip from Clary's wrist. She began to rub it. There was a clear and visible red mark. "Do you know of the Shadow World, little girl? Walked with warlocks, deals with demons, talked with the Night Children?" Warlocks. Demons. Night Children. According to me, the Night Children were vampires. It made sense, anyway.

Clary stopped him. "Her name's not little girl. Her name's Rae."

Jace smirked. "Rae. Pretty name."

"Or technically Raina," Clary also put in. "And she has no idea what you're talking about. Right, Rae? You don't know what they mean, do you?" But I did. Vampires. Warlocks – dealers with magic. Demons – a spirit outside of their dimension. I frowned at her, but that was when the door crashed open. Simon and one of the bouncers – the one who had stamped our hands earlier – stood beside him.

"Clary, Rae? Where are the guys – the ones with the knives?"

Clary looked guilty. "I thought they went in here. I'm sorry. It was a mistake, Simon."

Behind the two of us, Isabelle giggled.

* * *

"I can't believe it," Simon muttered. I knew what he was thinking. Clary looked at me slightly.

"I know! You think there'd be some cabs! Where does everybody go at midnight on Sundays?" She was trying to difuse the tension – so clear. "Do you think we'd have some luck on Houston?"

"Not the cabs," Simon explained, "You two. I don't believe you – that the guys with the knives just disappeared."

"Maybe there weren't any, Simon. Maybe I just imagined it all." Wrong thing to say.

"_Both _of you?" he replied, clearly not fooled by Clary. "That's even stranger, Clary. When I saw you, you looked like you had seen a ghost. And Raina, you looked like you were mad, like you weren't seeing it at all, like it were all real."

I looked down at my converse, slightly splattered with a mix of mud and black liquid that had come out from the demon's chest. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean that you looked like nothing was happening inside of your head. Like it was all real, and you could easily admit it," he told me. I saw Jace's golden eyes suddenly, and Alec speaking, the sound inaudible.

"I'm sorry," I said wearily. "It was just a mistake. There were no guys with knives."

"One hell of an embarrassing mistake, Rae. You know we'll never be able to go back in there again, right?" I had just realised that.

Just by luck, our conversation stopped as a cab finally pulled up, the wheels shrieking against the ground. I winced at the sound, remembering Isabelle's shrieks when Jace was battling the Eidolon.

"Finally," Simon said, defeated by triumph, "we get some luck." He swung open the door, too hard, and slid onto one of the plastic covered seats. I jumped in the cab after Clary, and shut the door. He gave the driver the address. Simon then nudged Clary as the cab driver pulled away.

"You know both of you can tell me anything, right?" I nodded.

* * *

**A/N: There we go! I have an incoming migraine so I might go to bed soon, and start the next Chapter tomorrow if I still don't go to school. Basically I felt like crap all day and still do. Fun times, huh? **

**-A**


	2. Chapter 2: Not A Dream

**A/N: I told you I'd have the second chapter done by today! Well I don't think I actually said that, but no, I'm not better at all. I think I'm worse. I spent my day listening to rock bands, watching the Avengers online (FINALLY!), and writing this. Surprisingly, this is longer than Chapter 1. So far I think I'm over 5k, which is quite an achievement for an ill girl to write that much in two days. **

**Oh, and thanks to the Guest who reviewed last Chapter! c: If you have an account please login. If not, still, CREATE ONE. Heh. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments or the rights to any of Cassandra Clare's characters but I do own Raina Fray.**

**-A**

* * *

Chapter #2

I woke up too late for my liking. My neck ached, head still throbbed, and all I could remember was the constant shrieking of Isabelle, the death of the Eidolon demon, and those strange marks embedded into Alec, Isabelle, and Jace's skin. They were completely black as if formed with the black fluid that spurted out of the demon's chest when Jace plunged the glowing blade into the chest of the demon. I couldn't shake the night off – it was constantly there, as well as flashes of Jace's wonderful, gleaming eyes, Alec's voice inaudible, Isabelle wrapping her whip around Clary's wrist. I sat up, turning around to reach for my phone. One new message, and it was from my service provider.

"Nice to show I'm loved," I muttered under my breath. Kicking back the covers, I was about to go in the bathroom when something stopped me.

On the floor, I was standing on a piece of crumpled up paper. Picking it up, I unfolded it to see a rhombus with two wings from the top of it. Next to it, in polished, unfamiliar handwriting was my name.

That was odd. I didn't draw this, but I put it under my pillow near my clothes for the day. I stepped into the bathroom, immediately sighing at the hot cascade of water in the shower. After I dried myself off and blow dried my hair, I pulled my white v-neck over my head, the same skinny jeans that I had on yesterday, black socks, the unlaced, mud-and-blood splattered converse, and my hoodie, unzipped. I jumped onto the couch and Clary tapped my shoulder. I could see a faint line of where Isabelle's whip rested last night, and I swallowed.

"You okay?" I asked, regarding the events of Pandemonium. She simply nodded. I got up and made myself a glass of water from the sink and downed it quickly. That was when I heard the door open, and standing at the door frame, holding multiple flat, cardboard boxes, was Luke.

I'd known him for a while. He was an old friend of Mom's, from their childhood.

"Hey, Luke," I said quickly, smiling. Clary walked from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag, and placed it on the side after she was done.

She repeated what I had said, apart from nearly saying Uncle instead of just Luke. Even though Luke was not technically related to us, he was the closest thing I had to a dad. I couldn't even remember anything about my dad, but I knew that I didn't look like him. To be honest, I had no clue whose genetics I had.

"Where's Mom?" Clary asked him.

"Parking the truck," he replied simply. He started to rummage around in one of the plastic boxes and picked up a tape gun. "Ah, here it is."

"Luke," Clary started, "what would you do if you could see something no-one else could see?" I practically froze._ Shit. _He dropped the tape gun, and it hit the ground with a large clatter.

He bent to pick it up. "You mean if I were the only one to witness a crime?" he replied. I had a strange feeling that he knew what she meant. I got up from the couch and ran to our room, and I picked up the balled sheet of paper with the drawing on it. I slid it into my pocket, ran a hand through my hair, and started to place it into a French braid.

When I returned, Mom was standing in the door frame. I hadn't really missed anything important, I didn't think, because Clary just nodded at me, the only person realising I was back in the room. I sank back onto the couch and started to tie up my laces for my shoes.

God, I hoped Mom hadn't noticed how dirty they were.

"Thanks for bringing the boxes up, Luke," Mom said to Luke, who gave her a soft smile. She looked warm and alive this August, especially in the beaming sunlight. "It took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people at the park today."

Clary cut her off. "Mom," she said nonchalantly, "what are the boxes for?" Luke's eyes flickered towards me.

"Is this about last night?" I asked Mom. She looked at me.

"A bit," she said. "You shouldn't have stayed out so late, Raina. You know better. You should've been looking after Clary."

I could not begin to explain how much I wanted to rip her head off. Apart from being annoyed with her, I had protected her from the teens. Isabelle, whip around Clary's wrist, I confidently stepped up and told her to back off. Helping her untangle from the wires.

I would _never _leave her side.

Her eyes flickered towards me and then at Luke. "Tell them, Jocelyn."

She expelled a big sigh. "We're going on vacation.

So that was it? No grounding me, no punishing me by taking my laptop away? "That's it?" Clary said, almost laughing. "I don't understand the need for a big production."

"Not just me and Luke," she said. "All of us. We're staying at the farmhouse." Luke had bought the farmhouse a few years ago and refurbished it completely. He was proud of his work, and I was pretty sure Mom was, too.

"For how long?" I questioned.

"The rest of the summer."

Clary, literally, threw a fit. "MOM!" she yelled. "I have plans. Tisch. Simon and I were planning a back to school party! _Ten  
more_ Tisch classes, Mom!"

"I'm sorry about Tisch. But the plans can be cancelled. I'm sure Simon will understand," Mom said. I looked away. I wasn't particularly annoyed, but suddenly Jace's golden eyes, one of the inked images on his arm flashed upon my eyes. My hand stayed at my pocket where the drawing lay, and I sighed lightly.

"I paid for the classes, Mom! I saved up all year!" Clary yelled, angry. She whirled on Luke, who had somehow stayed quiet. "Tell her it's not fair!"

Whatever Luke said was a blur; I wasn't paying attention. I was looking at my shoes, nervous, not a part of this, even though Clary had every right to be mad at not just Mom but me, as well.

"Mom, I can stay here. I'm sixteen soon. I can get a job – at Starbucks or something. Simon says they're always hiring."

"No!" The sharpness in Mom's voice made Clary shrink back. "You're not staying here. You're too young to stay alone. Something could happen." She looked at me again, just like she did so yesterday. Something was up, but why was she suspecting me, of all people?

There was a sudden crash over Clary's words. Luke had accidentally knocked down a framed picture and was bending to pick it up. As he placed it at its spot, he announced: "I'm leaving."

When he was about to walk out of the door, Mom caught his arm. "Bane," was all I heard. "His voicemail says he's in Tanzania."

"You can't keep up like this, Jocelyn," he hissed in reply. "You've never been the same since, but Raina isn't Jonathan. Neither is Clary."

What had I got do with this? Their gazes fell on me, and I looked away.

Luke was going to exit, his hand nearing the door handle, but that was when the door flew open. Simon stood just outside the doorframe, Luke staggered back and Mom stifled a scream.

"Jesus!" Luke yelled. Simon shrugged.

"Nope, just me," Simon said. "But I've been told the resemblance is startling."

I smiled at him. Luke immediately pushed past him, running down the stairs. Clary left the house and I grabbed my shoulder bag, about to leave the house, but that was when Clary dragged my wrist, and the door slammed behind me.

* * *

"Clary," I said to her, nudging her the best I could, "let go of my wrist." Her hand fell away and I could tell she immediately remembered last night. Isabelle's stained whip, curling around her wrist, me stepping up to her to tell her to leave my sister alone. She nodded at me.

The door to Dorothea's place opened. A man, with slender build and a tan, stood in the frame of the door, flashing a full, white-teethed smile. I immediately felt dizzy. Staring at Clary, she didn't look so good, either.

"Clary, you okay?" Simon asked, wrapping an arm around her waist protectively. She looked like she was going to pass out – her emotions expressing my feelings. "You don't look too good."

"I'm just hungry, I think," she replied. "I need to eat."

"Alright," he responded. "I'll buy you some food. The both of you." He looked up at me.

We stopped at a Mexican shack. I ordered some cheese nachos and a can of soda. We sat down for a bit. I picked at my nachos, not particularly hungry, chewing on the cheese and then crunching a sharp nacho down.

It was after I was covering my nachos with some napkin and getting up to go to Java Jones when Clary's phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and scowled.

"Mom?" I guessed. She nodded. "I thought so. Your expression told me so."

Simon realised that it was getting near to Eric's poetry reading, and he dragged us down the street. "Come on, we don't want to be late to Eric's poetry reading."

* * *

After I had ordered a coffee and told by Clary to sit somewhere away from her, I sank into an unoccupied love seat. I was sipping my coffee slowly, as it was just dropping from ghastly hot, when I heard a snicker from next to me.

I darted my head around, and there he was. Golden eyes, dressed in black but none of those black marks carved on his arms, sat next to me was the boy I'd met last night, Jace.

Clary turned in my direction and I literally face-palmed this time. "Shit," I mumbled, placing my coffee on the mat. "So it wasn't actually a dream?" He smirked at me. "Oh, and say thanks to Isabelle from Clary. She left a pretty permanent mark on Clary's wrist."

Jace then got up, opened the back door, having left the seat. I picked up my coffee, and followed him outside. Sure enough, he was still there. Clary then came, slamming the orange door behind her.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded. I sighed, placing a foot on the wall beside me, still standing up in the same sort of posture Jace had. He looked at me for a second, and then looked away.

"Who said I was following _you_?" he responded. "Maybe I'm following her." He pointed at me, fortunately just with his finger, not his blade. No, that was impossible. No-one followed me apart from Clary, who was my sister and had every right to follow me.

"Well then, _Jace_," I said, "why are you following us? And specifically, what do you want from me?"

"What I want from you, Raina, is for you to come to the Institute with me, today. I think that you're dangerous – a weapon."

What the hell was he on about? "I'm not a weapon! And I'm most certainly _not _dangerous. I'm just a normal, eighteen year old girl, living at home with my younger sister, thank you very much!" The tone I used was a bit too snappy and I immediately regretted it. I was surprised I hadn't dropped my coffee. I stared at my feet, again, like earlier. What was with the interrogation that day?

Then I remembered the drawing. I still couldn't remember when I drew it, but it was still in my pocket. The rune wasn't on Jace's arm today, but I pulled the paper out. It was slightly torn and stamped with mud. I pulled it out, removing the creases as well as I could and held it out to him, my coffee on the ground.

"Why, on Earth, am I drawing those weird Marks of yours?" I demanded. He tore it out of my hand and raised an eyebrow at me. He let the drawing fall to the ground, and I frowned.

"That's an Angelic rune. When did that start?" he asked me, not replying to my question. His ice cold hand fell to my wrist and held it tight. "Tell me."

I moved my hand out of his grip, growling. "I found it this morning, even though I have no memory of drawing it last night, okay?"

He smirked. "This is no coincidence. First, you give a very accurate explanation to her, your sister, about the demon last night at Pandemonium, then you draw a very, once again, accurate drawing of one of the Shadowhunter runes." I frowned. "What hand do you right with?"

I swallowed. "I don't see how that matters, but if you must know, I am right-handed naturally but I can write with both hands – I'm ambidextrous." He took my right hand, rather forcefully and stared at it.

Something rippled. A fading eye. He dropped my palm. "You're not a mundane," he said slowly. "But I don't see why your clairvoyant mark should be fading."

He then walked over to Clary. I bent, to pick up my coffee, and the drawing. He dropped her right palm in disappointment.

"You're not left handed, are you?" She shook her head. "Most of us Shadowhunters get Marked when they're twelve. Like your sister did."

I stared at him. "So, what, is this like a semi-permanent tattoo on my hand? Great. Mom's really gonna love me for that."

Suddenly, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Fishing it out, it showed Mom's name. "Speaking of Mom, she's calling." I pressed the Answer button.

There was no talk for a minute or so until I heard a loud crash.

"Mom?!" I yelled into the receiver, desperately. I dropped my coffee cup into Clary's hand, scrambling to put the drawing in my pocket. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Finally, I heard her voice. She was panting, desperately, for breath.

"Raina," she said, panicking, "Look after Clary. Go to Simon's, call Luke. Tell him that he found me."

I widened my eyes. This wasn't happening. "Mom, who found you?" I yelled. "_Mom!_"

"I love you, Raina," she said.

The call cut, and I threw the phone down the alley. I heard a crash, and I swallowed, cursing under my breath.

"Rae," Clary said, approaching me, having put the Styrofoam cup on the ground. "What is it?"

"It's Mom," I said, simply. "I think she's in trouble."

I ran down the alley, tears falling down my cheeks.

* * *

When I got to a stoplight, I was getting impatient. I tossed my head to my left. A girl, dressed in a pink dress, laughing, as she tossed her doll around. For a second, I thought that I saw the wings flicker, the doll grin, sharp teeth and all. I swallowed and ran across the road, too impatient to wait for the light to say it was safe to walk. I dodged a cab, two cars, ran into a cyclist accidentally, and ran down another alley to my street.

When I reached the house, the lights were on. I sighed, thankful. "Thank God," I murmured. I ran up the creaky, old stairs. Reaching the apartment door, I kicked it open, considering it was not closed. I frowned.

And then I screamed.

The kitchen, torn to shreds, the fridge door open. I shuddered. It was the same circumstances for the living room, but it was worse when I saw the paintings.

All of the painting scraps – gone. Ripped, in scatters, under my feet. I fell to my knees, and then I saw a glowing light under the wrecked couch.

I pulled it out. It was light, and a smaller version of Jace's blade from last night. I turned around and had the instinct to walk to my room.

At first, it looked like a dog. But then it changed its shape, and I stumbled back, slamming against the wall. Red flesh, multiple legs, hissing. But the hisses, they were words.

"_Girl. Flesh. To eat, oh, to eat._" I stared at the tube. It seemed to glow more. What was it called? I couldn't think at first, but then it popped up to me like a spring. _Ariel. _

"_Bones. To suck out the marrow,_" it carried on, the voice echoing through the wrecked apartment. "_Valentine said nothing about a girl. Valentine will never be angry._"

I lifted the blade. "Ariel," I mumbled. The glow extended but the sword did not. "Ariel!" I yelled. It became a full, long sword, exactly like the one that Jace had. I charged as the thing lunged for me, tossing the sword on the ground, leaping over the demon and balancing on the sword before I landed on my feet and picked up the sword, then plunged it straight into its neck. It moaned and groaned, the same black fluid spurting around the apartment, on the wall, and hitting my clothes. I screamed as it followed me, its tail hitting my throat as I got down on the floor. I moaned as it disappeared, staring at the sword coated with sticky blood, left on the floor. I collapsed, and the last thing I heard was shouting and someone saying something.

* * *

I woke up on wet grass, my head heavy. I could hear sirens faintly in the distance. My vision focused, and crouching before me was Clary and Jace.

"Where am I?" I said weakly, my throat feeling as if it were on fire. I could barely move, barely even recognise my surroundings.

"You got hurt," Jace replied, not answering my question. He held a thick, long object carved with the same marks I would've seen on his arms on any other day. "But you killed that demon."

I sat up and felt sick in my throat. I swallowed it down. "That was a demon?" I questioned, my voice quiet, the feeling of my throat closing up really coming to me now.

"A Ravener, to be precise. Got you in the throat," he explained. "It may have been half dead, but it was quite a sting."

I coughed and put my right hand to my mouth. When I pulled away, blood was on my hand, splattered, and I whimpered. I coughed violently again, my eyes feeling heavy all of a sudden.

"Don't kill yourself while you're here," he hissed. A cold metal sting went to my arm.

I said something, but all I could remember was staring at a new, black mark on my arm. My throat closed up, and I felt a scream trying to claw its way through my throat before I fell into the darkness of the abyss.

* * *

**A/N: Heh it's done. I hope you liked it. I'll probably be able to start Chapter 3 tonight, which will be called something like "The Institute." like now I'm actually naming my Chapters. **

**I think you could say I'm becoming devoted with my stories. Anyway, apart from a few paragraphs, this will all be in Raina's POV. So, yeah, I guess you already knew that _ Sorry. **

**Anyway, Bastille rocks, as does Paramore, Bring Me The Horizon and does any other rock band. I watched the Avengers so my friends at school may be telling me to shut up a lot.**

**-A**


	3. Chapter 3: The Institute

**A/N: Genuinely better at writing when I'm ill than any other time omg. **

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own The Mortal Instruments - all rights go to Cassandra Clare, aside from Raina Fray, who is solely my creation for the purpose of this fanfiction.**

**-A**

* * *

Chapter #3

Two demons stood over the unconscious form of Raina Fray. Her hair, unwashed and spread around her, her eyes closed as she slept, her chest rising and falling as if she had no trouble breathing at all. Despite the Ravener sting, she only had the trace of a silver scar across her throat.

"What is her name?" one of the demons said.

"Raina, or Rae to her friends," the other one replied.

"I do not know how she has managed to survive the Ravener."

"Has she, really? She doesn't look very well."

Suddenly, the demons turned into humans. Jace, his golden eyes darker in the night, and an older man who had fine white hair and wore a tweed jacket.

"Come on, Rae, I told you not to fall asleep," Jace said, holding her palm.

* * *

Despite the feeling that my eyelids hurt and did every part of my body, especially my throat – that felt as if it were on fire – I managed to open my eyes. Blinking a few times, I sat up and saw two figures; Jace, standing next to a man wearing a tweed jacket and fine white hair. He must have been Hodge.

The marks were on Jace's skin again – his arms bare, scarred with marks, and his biceps easily showing.

"Welcome back." Hodge said, giving me an aged smile. A thousand wrinkles appeared around his face when he smiled lightly at me.

"Where did I go?" I said, putting a hand to my forehead. My temples ached, and I smelt pretty bad. Fortunately, I was in new clothes. They were not Clary's, and I did not want to know whose they were.

"Hodge didn't think you were going to make it," Jace responded. Oh, please, do welcome another member of the blunt club.

Hodge handed me a cup of something and I took a sip, an eyebrow raised. "You've been unconscious for a day."

"That's not bad, is it?" I asked. The drink was good, whatever it was.

"No, that's not bad at all." He gave me a reassuring smile and I smiled back softly. But then I realised someone I had almost forgotten.

"Clary," I said to Jace. "Is she okay?"

"Your sister," Jace responded, "is fine. She is sleeping at the moment, seeing it is the early hours of the morning."

I shrugged. "Wouldn't be surprised if she woke up late, either. Kind of had a few exhausting last few days," I said to Hodge.

"However, Raina, it is surprising you are awake. Strange for a mundane to heal in a day with a Ravener sting at the throat."

"I thought it was half-dead?" I questioned.

"Yes, but it may well could have killed you." My heart sank at that.

Jace suddenly spoke, his voice oddly quiet. "But," he said slowly, my eyes on him, "she's not a mundane." He was suddenly focusing on my pillow.

"What?" Hodge and I asked together.

Jace looked up, his golden eyes meeting my dark charcoal ones. Despite he was looking at me, he was addressing Hodge. "First of all, Hodge, she was stung by the Ravener harshly in the throat. Even though it was half-dead, I could see that when I got there the Ravener must have hit her when it was starting to die. She can also see us, and she knows things – advanced things – that no mundane would, unless someone gave them a very educated lesson on demonology. And third, show him your arm, Raina."

I lifted my right arm. The Mark, still there but very faint, almost 100% gone, just leaving a small, faint scar of the same shape it was.

"Jace!" Hodge hissed.

But Jace stayed remotely calm. "And," he continued, "Raina, unball your hand." I did so. "You can see that she has the clairvoyant mark on her right hand."

Hodge inspected my palm, and I did too. Funnily enough, it seemed that the mark had darkened, since the day I discovered it was there.

With both of them staring at me, I grew slightly concerned. "Is it possible that I take a shower?"

Hodge nodded. "Of course, Raina. Jace, take her to a room."

"Where we left her bag?"

"Of course."

I sat up and swung my legs off of the bed. I picked up my cracked phone from the side of the table, and wondered about the drawing.

Even though I was barefooted, I enjoyed the cold floor considering I was rather hot. I stared at my clothes – a red dress that stopped at my knees.

"Are these my clothes?" I questioned. He smirked.

"Clary helped you put them on, Raina. She said this was your birthday present last year." Odd, because I couldn't remember the dress. I shrugged. "It suits you well, by the way."

I smiled at him slightly. He was only four inches taller than me, but I was positive that overnight, I had grown an inch or two.

Even though he had been silent for a bit, he turned around and faced me, walking backwards. "Like that's safe."

He smirked. "How exactly did you kill that Ravener demon, with no weapon at all?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I lied.

"You really expect me to believe that, huh? Trust me, I'm like a snake. I can detect lies very easily. I happen to be a master liar myself, dear Rae. So, how did you do it?"

"I don't want to talk about it now," I said, as he opened the room to my door. "Could you please leave me to some privacy whilst I shower? I don't like to be interrogated while I smell like sweat and blood."

"Fine," he said. Despite my demands to tell him to get out of the room, he sat on my bed. "If you aren't prepared to tell me how you killed the demon, at least tell me some things about yourself."

"Okay. Raina Fray. Eighteen years of age. Five foot seven. Naturally inquisitive. Smart. Skilled in hand-to-hand combat, more specifically, I can hold a knife rather well. And no, Jace, I do not need a lesson in demonology, thank you very much. I think that's Clary who does. She's as clueless as ever." I felt bad to insult my baby sister, but it was true.

"Oh, so you heard that part, too? How long were you in the storage room at Pandemonium, anyway?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Hm. I guess when I saw you and Alec go in after the demon. You were holding a glowing blade. As I said, I'm naturally inquisitive, so I like to go and investigate. I guess I could be on CSI."

He smirked. "So you heard practically everything? Clever skills."

"Can I shower now? I promise I'll tell you everything after my shower. Also, um," I said, pointing to the bed and the bag. "Please do not stay in here while I shower. Did Clary pack me a towel?"

He shrugged. "No, but there are two on the silver rack in the bathroom."

* * *

After my shower I pulled a black, strapless dress on and a black cardigan that was a bit too big, some leggings and my even more, if possible, ruined converse. I shrugged as I dried my hair and brushed it so I could rid of the knots.

As if she knew I was better, Clary came rushing in suddenly, beaming. "Rae! Oh, thank God you're okay!" she said. I hugged her tight.

"Thanks for packing my bag, sis," I told her. "Anyway, what've you done for the past day while I've been out?"

"Read, sleep. That's it, really. It was hard to get here, you know. Jace had to carry you and I had to carry two cases."

"Oh," I said, scratching my head, "sorry about collapsing on you."

"No worries. As long as you're okay."

"I suspect that Jace is waiting for me. He was trying to interrogate me while I was trying to shower." I shudder at the thought that he was waiting outside the door.

"He does want to talk to you, in private," Clary said. "He's outside. I'm just going to get him." There was something so honestly innocent about the new Clary, but when she opened the mahogany door, he came in, and Clary nodded at me before exiting the room.

"I'm just guessing that you stayed outside my room all this time while I was trying to shower in peace," I said. He smirked. "Anyway, about that information you wanted."

"Carry on."

"In fact, there was a blade. Underneath the couch," I said to him. "A faint glow from it. Suddenly, its name snapped in my head. I simply said it and the blade extended to something like the one at Pandemonium. The demon leapt at me and so did I. But instead of stabbing it, I used the sword so I could land confidently on two feet. I concentrated, put all my thoughts towards it, and landed on two feet before I stabbed it. I stumbled to the ground and its tail hit me in the throat before I realised what I'd done."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you found a blade, just lying around in your apartment, and you managed to remember what it was called without even seeing it before and you then proceeded to kill the demon, but before that channelled your energies onto balancing through the air and landing on two feet with _just_ the help of a blade?"

"I guess this is the part where you just tell me that I'm a very good liar and I always have been."

"No," he said softly. "This is actually the part where I tell you that I believe you."

Huh? "Are you just saying that for the sake of it?"

"No, Raina, I am not just saying that. I genuinely believe that you killed that demon with the exact story that you just told me."

She blushed slightly. "Now, let's go and see to the others, shall we?"

* * *

**A/N: That's the shortest Chapter so far, omg. I'll be writing the detailed, centre of the Institute next chapter, probably starting now, at 11:26 PM. It'll be called "The Institute Part 2" as this is only the beginning of the long chapter. I'm splitting it into two parts so it's not too long. **

**-A**


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